


Illumination

by In_Dreams



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Full Moon, Halloween, Potions, Samhain, Werewolves, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-07 15:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16411031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dreams/pseuds/In_Dreams
Summary: As the full moon rises on Samhain, a desperate Hermione Granger seeks help from Draco Malfoy. But she may end up finding more than she's looking for.





	Illumination

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This piece was written for Strictly Dramione's Halloween Fest 2018. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful alpha and beta on this piece, Kyonomiko and LaBelladone x.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

                                                        

It was an ominous sort of evening. The type that, in Draco's experience, didn't bode well. Outside the small window of his apothecary, the last vestiges of fading sunlight shone and glowed, casting deep shadows across the alley of Carkitt Market.

The full moon was rising.

In the streets, revelers danced and hollered, practicing spells and beckoning the spirits of Samhain, closer tonight to the veil of the living than any other night of the year.

It was the sort of night that Draco usually tried to avoid.

It was in such a spirit that he decided to close the apothecary early; it had been quiet, anyway, with the majority of the wizarding world preparing for celebrations of one kind or another. Draco would be indulging in neither; a night of solitude was in store.

He secured his small shop, collected his bag and locked and warded the front door as he stepped out into the chaos. Grimacing at the racket just beyond his shop – clearly the reason business had been slow – Draco began the short trek to the nearest Apparition point; the corner of Carkitt and Diagon.

A reveler broke from the pack and stumbled into Draco, who rolled his eyes and shoved past the woman.

"Wait!" a voice cried and Draco turned on the spot, a long-forgotten tension rising to his shoulders at the timbre of the voice.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of the woman, even as his brows flickered in surprise and recognition.

"Granger."

"Malfoy?" The brunette faltered, her brow furrowing. "You work here?"

"I own it," Draco clipped with a scowl. "But I'm leaving, so if you'll return to your party –" He gestured with a hand to the denizens parading about the streets in various states of inebriation and undress.

Granger's gaze flickered behind her and she shook her head. "I wasn't – I need to make a purchase."

Draco's lips pursed as he assessed his old schoolmate; she certainly wasn't dressed like the rest of them, and in fact she looked rather – disheveled. Her hair was wilder than usual, her outfit a bit rumpled and there seemed to be – if he could see correctly in the failing light –  _dirt_  marring her complexion.

"Unfortunately, we're closed," Draco said, making to step past her. "So if you'll excuse me."

"Please," she gasped, "everywhere else is already shut down. It won't be but a minute."

"Come back tomorrow, Granger," he said, his tone gruff. In all truthfulness, he didn't care if she returned tomorrow or ever. "I've already closed up the shop."

Granger paced beside him and Draco scowled in irritation. She reached for his arm and he flinched, shaking her off.

"Please," she whispered, and there was something in the tremble of her voice that gave Draco pause. He stopped walking and turned to face her. "I need – for a friend, you see – I need Wolfsbane."

Draco snickered, shaking his head. "You've definitely come to the wrong place. I've been sold out for weeks. Your  _friend_  should have been more diligent in preparation of the full moon."

"My friend  _shattered_  today's potion by accident," Granger said, attempting to run a hand through her hair; her fingers became tangled in the thick locks and she extracted them with a disgruntled huff. "Powdered Moonstone, then. I would have brewed her a fresh batch but I'm out of Powdered Moonstone.  _Please_ , Malfoy."

"I haven't got any Powdered Moonstone either," Draco said with an impatient sigh. "There has been a shortage of Powdered Moonstone across the world for two weeks. You won't be finding it anywhere in England, and even if you did, you won't have time to brew a proper batch of Wolfsbane before the moon is fully risen." Draco chewed his tongue and shook his head. "I can't help you or your friend, Granger. So I'll suggest you tell your friend what I've told every werewolf who's knocked on my door in the past two weeks: get out of London and hole up somewhere safe."

Granger opened her mouth to object, but Draco raised a hand and cut her off.

"And mind you –  _safe_. Foul things happen when the full moon rises on Samhain. Your friend won't want to be near anyone –  _or_  any other weres, for that matter."

He moved to brush past her again, and to Draco's surprise, she made no move to follow. There was something sunken about her, the dejection in her shoulders, and he frowned.

He turned back to her with a tilt to his head, his mind racing.

"How long has it been since you were bitten, Granger?" he asked, his voice low.

Her eyes widened as her head jerked back up. "I'm not – it's for –" she cut herself off, glancing around, her eyes darting and surreptitious. "A month and a half ago."

"Ah," Draco said, nodding. "Only your second transition then. It'll be a rough one, so I've heard. I deal with a lot of werewolf clientele."

"There's nothing you have that might help?" Granger asked, her voice resigned.

"Aside from a wand and some shackles," Draco said, smirking, "no."

Granger blinked at him before releasing a long, shuddering breath. "Alright. Thanks anyways, Malfoy. And if you don't mind – please don't tell anyone I was here."

"I won't," Draco said with a shrug. "I keep discretion with all my clients." Then he spun back to face her. "Don't you work in the beasts division of Magical Creatures, Granger? You haven't registered as a werewolf?"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "And no. They wouldn't have allowed me to keep my position if they knew I was a werewolf. And the other weres who come in to the office have keen scent. I thought it was best to resign… and, you know, maintain that much of my dignity."

"Not all werewolves have extra-sensory olfactory senses in human form," Draco explained, his brow furrowed. "In fact, it's the exception rather than the rule."

Granger shrugged. "I suppose so. Have a nice Samhain, Malfoy."

Draco watched while she hesitated, fingering her wand, and just before she turned to Apparate he released a sigh, shaking his head. "Granger."

She turned back to face him; the light had dulled in her eyes, and he could see it more clearly now. It wasn't surprising; lycanthropy took a mental and physical toll.

He frowned in the direction of the apothecary, knowing he would need to be quick. "There might be something but it isn't ideal. Come on."

With something like relief on her face, Granger followed him as he released the wards on the shop and led her into the darkness inside. The light of the moon filtered through casting grotesque shapes on the walls and she paced behind him, glancing around.

"Have you already taken your Wolfsbane for the last six days?" Draco asked, turning back to her.

"Yes," she said, "I made enough for two months initially. But I had a spike of pain when I was holding the flask today and lost my grip; I couldn't salvage enough of it."

"Like I said," Draco said with a grimace, "it'll be difficult on Samhain. It's…  _more_."

"More," Granger echoed; a chill crept down Draco's spine at the thought.

"So why didn't you tell anyone?" Draco asked as he rummaged through a basket of old vials. "Didn't want to lose your job, but you quit anyway. Didn't want people to think less of Gryffindor's golden girl?" He snickered to himself.

"It isn't any of your business, Malfoy," Granger hissed, and he could tell she was attempting to keep her anger in check.

"If I'm helping you out," Draco said, giving her a pointed stare. She fumed back. "Let me guess: you were so used to being respected and loved – didn't want the whole world to know what a monster you've become, is that it?"

Granger huffed in anger, narrowing her eyes and clenching her hands into fists. She exclaimed, "And what do you even know about it, Malfoy!"

Draco raised a brow and stared at her, unimpressed. "You're going to give yourself an early transition if you don't calm down."

"Really!" she seethed, stomping forward and glaring at him. "You and your posh life in your mansion with all your servants and entitlement! What do you know about being cast out from society?"

"Aside from being the boy who was a Death Eater?" Draco drawled, deadpan. He reached a hand between his collar and tugged his shirt and robes away, revealing the silver, crescent-shaped scar at his collarbone. Granger gasped and fell silent. "I'd reckon I know more about it than you do."

"You're a werewolf," she breathed, her eyes wide. "You aren't registered."

"I've taken great pains to stay unregistered," Draco clipped. "And if you tell anyone, the world will know about you, too."

"So what are you doing tonight if you're out of Wolfsbane?" she asked, her head cocked to the side with genuine curiosity. "Or have you got your own stash?"

"My stash is depleted as well," Draco said. "I didn't realize the extent of the Powdered Moonstone shortage until it was too late. I will be doing as I told you to do, and getting the hell out of London."

Granger was silent for a long moment then asked, "Where do you go?"

"My criteria are simple," Draco said with a shrug. "Remote, forested, no nearby towns or villages. The rest doesn't matter."

"How long have you been a werewolf?" she asked, leaning against the workbench as Draco searched for the specific vial he was seeking.

"Since the summer after fifth year," Draco murmured, distracted. He glanced up at her gaping stare. "Shocking, isn't it? Greyback bit me, on the Dark Lord's orders. Snape was able to brew the Wolfsbane for me while I was still at Hogwarts and then I opened my apothecary shortly after."

"I never would have known," Granger breathed.

"A few of my friends suspected," Draco said with a shrug. "And Theo Nott knows, but no one else does. I said I have a lot of werewolf clientele – it's because I'm the only potioneer in England who doesn't shun them because of their condition. You go into most apothecaries looking for Powdered Moonstone and potioneers will laugh in your face, Granger."

"Does it bother you?" she asked, her brows knitted. Draco could see the exhaustion in the set of her jaw again.

He frowned and shook his head. "You get used to it, Granger. I know it's hard to imagine that now. But it'll take time and you'll find your own rhythms and routines about it."

There was a thoughtful tilt to her head while Draco continued his search. By his estimations the moon would be fully risen in a little over an hour.

"What exactly happened to you, anyway?" he asked, meeting her eyes. "How did you wind up bitten?"

Granger sighed and averted her gaze. "It's stupid, really. My team and I were working on some pro-werewolf legislation and –" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "There's this group of anarchist werewolf outliers, who are against the integration methodology we were proposing. They like to live outside of civilization. Contemporaries of your friend Greyback." She gave a cold snicker that didn't reach her eyes.

"I know of them," Draco said, his lip curling with a sneer. He'd had more than one run-in over the years, before he'd learned to travel further out. "Wait, they attacked you just because you were trying to make their lives  _better_?"

Granger shook her head, her arms coming up to clutch her front. "They saw it as pity. As reaching sympathies from someone who didn't understand their plight. They waited for the full moon and caught me out alone one night."

"Bloody disgusting." He shook his head. "I'd say I can hardly believe it but they're savages. To think they infected you out of spite."

Granger released a long, rattling breath. "So unfortunately, that's how I've ended up here." She gave a little shrug and Draco felt a spasm of indignation on her behalf, despite that they hadn't spoken in years. Hell, they'd never spoken this much ever, and certainly not as anything less than adversaries.

He wished he had a better solution to offer her – wished she hadn't been forced into this life; it wasn't one he would think to cast on anyone, even her.

"Here it is," Draco said, revealing the dusty vial he had been searching for. "An infusion of antimony and moonseed."

"That's poison," Granger stated, folding her arms. "I asked for your help, not for you to put me out of my misery."

Draco snickered and rolled his eyes. "The quantities are minute enough that it won't hurt you. If there's still enough of the Wolfsbane in your system from the past six days this  _might_ help you retain enough of your cognitive functioning to keep your head on straight. But it won't be as effective as the seventh dosage of Wolfsbane would have been."

Granger accepted the vial, staring at it with caution. "How much?"

"Just take it, if you want it," Draco shrugged. "But I'll warn you, it won't be pleasant.  _If_  it even takes hold of the remains of the Wolfsbane, it'll put your blood into a stasis. You'll be confused and disoriented at best. You'll still transform, and it'll be painful." He hesitated, putting the basket of vials away. "Granger, be careful tonight. If you sense any other weres, run the other way."

"Why?" she asked; Draco could hear the catch of her breath.

"Samhain makes werewolves act differently," he said. "If you were to come across an alpha, he might try and attack you. Or, he might try and mate you."

Granger froze, her hand clenching the table with white knuckles. "Mate me?"

"Yes." Draco fixed her with a sharp stare. "And though it'll happen in wolf form, it'll carry on into your human life. Once mated as a werewolf, you'll never find true satisfaction with anyone but your mate in human form."

"Have you mated?" she choked. "As a werewolf."

Draco held her gaze for a long moment; her chocolate eyes were wide with fear in the light of the moon. "No. I tend to keep to myself on a full moon."

Her eyes were fixed on the vial he had given her. "Would you take this? If it were you."

"If I'd taken six days and missed the seventh," Draco mused. "I'd get far away and let the moon have me. I'd sooner be full wolf than half wolf and half human, mentally."

Granger frowned but tucked the vial away all the same.

Draco caught a hint of her scent as she shifted and knew the transition was close if his senses were beginning to enhance. It tugged at something in his mind and he fought the instinct to lean in and breathe her in. Full moon or no, they were still human and it would be inappropriate.

She had a soothing scent; citrus and warmth.

Her question distracted from the urge. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as you get the hell out of my shop," Draco said with a smirk, taking a careful step away.

Granger blinked but chuckled a little. "I don't know where to go."

Draco stared at her and pondered for a moment; he didn't know her well but he felt a strange sort of kinship with Granger that he'd never experienced. Maybe it was in knowing what had happened to her.

"I'll tell you what. I have a Portkey in the basement that's set to take me to a remote forest in Croatia. You can come along if you promise to get as far away as you can before the transition takes hold."

Granger nodded quickly at the offer. She chewed her lip and asked, "Are you an alpha, Malfoy?"

Draco pursed his lips and clipped, "I don't have a pack."

He turned and led Granger through the back of the apothecary, down a narrow and winding set of staircases, careful to keep his distance from her enticing scent; it was triggering some sort of protective instinct inside him, even as the wolfish side settling into his brain wanted to be alone. He hadn't been lying; he ran solo, and tended to be territorial, from the abstract collection of half-formed memories he'd accumulated.

He grimaced as they descended. "It isn't pleasant down here, fair warning."

It grew cold and drafty as they descended from the main shop into the basement and behind him, he could hear Granger shivering as she wrapped her arms around herself. A steady drip in the plumbing echoed through the walls.

"What's that for?" Granger choked as the staircase reached the bottom and she stepped forward.

"That," Draco said, "is my contingency plan."

The majority of the subterranean level was constructed of a large cell with ankle and wrist shackles. Granger stared, her eyes wide as she took in the thick metal.

"In case I don't take the potion and don't have time to get out," he muttered. " _This_  is how I keep everyone around me safe."

"You don't always take Wolfsbane?" Granger asked.

Draco chuckled; even years later, even infected with lycanthropy, Granger was the same curious swot. It fascinated him, although that could have been the wolf.

"No, Granger, not always. Sometimes I prefer not to. It's hard on the system, you know, to deny a natural instinct." He hesitated, glancing at the Portkey on a small round table. "It's mentally freeing, to embrace the transition. When I take Wolfsbane, I'm stressed and anxious until the next moon." He laughed. "I guess spending one night a month running free is good for a person."

"I suppose I never thought of it as anything but a curse," Granger said, frowning.

"When you've spent as long afflicted as I have, you'll start to see the good in it," Draco said, shrugging. "Otherwise it'll drive you mad."

Granger wrang her hands for a moment, then he saw one hand slip into her pocket to fiddle with the vial he'd given her. "It's sort of nice to have someone to talk about it."

Draco frowned, realizing the truth in her words. "You're right." He gestured to the Portkey on the table. "I can feel my instincts and senses shifting. We only have about a half hour left until the transition hits. We ought to get ourselves situated. If you're taking the infusion, do it now."

Granger stared at the vial for a long time before setting it down on the table beside the Portkey.

"The authentic experience then," Draco said with a hint of a grin. "I don't blame you."

Granger took a long breath and steeled her expression. "Let's do this."

Draco held her gaze for a moment before activating the Portkey. "Be safe, Granger. And keep your furry arse away from me."

"What would you do if you found me?" she breathed.

"I don't know," Draco said with a shrug. He didn't  _want_  to know. "And let's not find out." He proffered the Portkey and with a swallow, Granger laid her hand on the rusty kettle. Draco felt the familiar tug beneath his navel and they were gone.

Landing in the forest, Granger gave him a grimace. "Thanks, Malfoy."

Draco nodded. "Take care of yourself, Granger."

She looked away and a moment later she Disapparated. His eyesight was already beginning to grow sharper and he saw a rustling of the trees in the distance where she must have landed. He went in the opposite direction.

And when it was time, and the last of the cloud cover vanished, Draco let his eyes fall shut and he descended into the madness of the transformation, grinding his sharpening teeth at the feel and sound of his bones breaking and reforming. Silver fur sprouted thick across his body.

His mind began to slip and he gave himself over to the instincts of the wolf within.

He rent the air with a blood curdling howl.

* * *

There was something wrong.

Draco sniffed at the air, his large yellow eyes narrowing. His hackles raised and shoulders tensed; the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He wasn't alone. There were other scents here – other wolves.

He stalked west on all fours, low to the ground as he followed an vaguely familiar scent, a growl falling from his lips. He didn't want to be disturbed – but if there was another pack here, he didn't want to meet them, either.

Draco paced through the forest, the pale light of the moon streaking through the canopy above in shafts. The other scent made him uneasy; he kept a wary eye on his surroundings as he crept through the woods.

He would drive off the other wolf who had invaded his territory. Her scent stirred something with him – it was a scent he knew – but he didn't want company. So keen he was on the scent he nearly missed another that crossed it – until there were several scents all mixed together and entangled as one and his hackles raised as he lost the one he knew. It faded from his mind.

Draco paused, crouching low to the ground as his eyes scanned the darkness before him. The one he was following was being tracked by other werewolves – Draco would need to send them all away.

Something within him was unsettled at the thought. He crept forward, slower and more cautious, his senses recaptured and focused on the one – the female – he was looking for.

He could scent the others now, three, and all male. He could taste their excitement as they followed the trail of the female. They would claim her for their pack alpha. Draco snarled from deep within his throat and picked up his pace.

The female had sped up – Draco could sense her fear – and she knew she was being followed. She was in his territory; he would be the one to deal with her. But yet something tugged at an instinct in the back of his mind – something protective.

He picked up into a jog and then a run, keeping his scent keen on that of the female's, even as it bled and mixed with the three others.

He could see them now, up ahead; they had stopped to drink at the stream. He crept up alongside them, hoping to pass by. He circled around, in search of the lone female once more. He would drive her away, and the others too, if he needed to. He would keep her away and safe –

Catching her scent once more, Draco found himself breaking into a run as he sped up in search of her. His thoughts twisted and spun into the all-encompassing thrill of the chase.

The wind whipped through the fur on his face as he ran, and his instincts prickled and told him he was being followed – the other three had caught his scent, then.

He was closer; he would find her first. He would sweep her away.

Draco caught sight of something moving and rustling in the distance and his eyes narrowed as he carried forward, fixed on the sight of her, even as the scent of her grew stronger. He knew her scent and she shouldn't be here. The part of him that knew her smell needed to keep her sheltered from harm.

She was smaller than him, her fur brown and thick. She glanced up, her yellow eyes narrowing on instinct when she saw him coming and made to dash away. Draco kept on her trail, overtaking her with his larger size and longer stride.

He snarled as he kept after her; he had nearly caught up to her when a hint of something caught his senses and he was crashed into from the side, throwing him off her trail. Draco found himself on the ground, the alpha of the small pack standing over him.

He reached a large paw up to bat the wolf away, rising to his feet as he stalked forward and bared his fangs.

He needed to get to the female with the familiar scent. He needed to push her back – take care of her –

But the other two began to close in; Draco kept a wary eye on the three of them until they were so close he could only see their fur. He clawed at the alpha and leapt forward with the weight of his body. He crashed into the wolf and the two of them rolled, swiping and snarling, until Draco found himself outnumbered and against the ground.

He rose to his feet, attempting to shove the three wolves off. The alpha growled and hissed, hackles raised, and swung at Draco, shoving him back to the ground. Draco rose into a crouch, leaping forward to knock over his adversary.

There was a sharp cry behind him and Draco swung with a mighty paw while the alpha was distracted. The alpha yelped and lunged; another cry came from behind him and Draco darted away, turning. He gnashed his fangs at the sound.

The small, female werewolf was fighting the other two wolves, her slight frame undersized in comparison. Draco snarled and dove for the nearest, tackling him to the ground while the female took on the other with surprising dexterity. He needed to guard her from this other pack.

The alpha launched himself at Draco again and caught him in the leg; with waning strength Draco swiped and snapped, and his fangs found purchase in the alpha's fur. With a bark the alpha tore away, howling; the tang of blood lingered in Draco's mouth as he doubled back to find the small female.

The remaining two followed their alpha, hackles raised as they went.

Draco lingered in a crouch until the three were gone, vanished into the woods; he made to stand and collapsed to the ground with a sharp cry. He was weak and injured from the encounter; the brown female approached and Draco released a tense whimper, even as his instincts roared at her approach.

She crept closer, cautious, and nudged him in the leg, dredging a pained howl from Draco's throat.

He swiped with a paw but couldn't reach her as she darted around. Expecting to be attacked in such a prone position, Draco tensed and snarled, but her touch was soft as she laid her face to the outside of his leg, finding the injury with her tongue. He knew her – and something deep within him warred with the part of him that needed to watch over her.

He growled, even as she continued licking the wound and then nudged him with a shoulder. With her assistance, Draco rose to his feet and took a few steps forward, his leg shaky but stable enough to walk on.

The female kept at his side, pushing him to venture back toward the stream he had passed. He couldn't run but she stayed alongside, her shoulders tensed as she guided him. He was meant to help her; he paced closer to her side.

She remained in the shallows while Draco submerged himself in the flowing water of the stream, standing over him; dried blood drifted out of his matted coat.

She snarled softly when Draco emerged from the water and shook the moisture from his fur; he huffed and nudged her in the side.

They stalked alongside one another while the strength returned to Draco's injured leg, and she snuffled into his fur when she nuzzled against him.

They had saved one another from the other pack, and he didn't think he wanted to drive her off anymore – the protective side of him wanted to keep her around.

As the night wore on, the moon hanging overhead, Draco took up the chase as she ran ahead, and the last vestiges of the pain in his leg dissipated as he took off into a tentative run; the small brown female had surprising speed and agility.

He howled and barked as he chased after her, tasting her anticipation as he followed her scent again, now with a different purpose.

The moon reached out and called to him, pushing at his baser instincts, and he caught up to the female, nuzzling her neck. She pressed against him, playful and growling.

Draco bared his fangs and dragged them along the back of her shoulder – she would become his mate tonight. He would always protect her.

* * *

Draco stirred and cracked one eye open; the sun had already been risen for hours, by the looks of it. He stifled a groan; every muscle in his body screamed from the agony of transition, but that wasn't unusual.

He had obviously covered a lot of ground last night – it took some time to locate his clothes and wand where he'd stashed them, and Draco dressed in silence. As usual, he didn't remember the bulk of his experiences from the night before aside from vague mental imagings and lingering instinctive thoughts from the wolf that had overtaken his mind.

But there was no blood on or around him, so he must not have ventured from the forest. It would have been an uneventful night, then. Just what Draco had been hoping for, with the worries of the full moon falling on Samhain lingering in the back of his mind all month.

He would wait for a while to see if Granger wanted to share his return Portkey – otherwise, Draco would venture home to London for another month.

Draco cast a locator spell and began in the direction of a faint stirring of human activity. Rubbing the back of his neck, he froze. There was a crescent of bite marks on the base of his shoulder at his collarbone, opposite where the old scarred bite from Greyback was.

His heart rate began to escalate; Granger had been in the forest the night before but he had seen her going far in the opposite direction. It was unlikely they would have crossed paths.

So had there been other werewolves in the woods last night?

Coming up on a stream, Draco crouched down to take a closer look. The crescent was a perfect set of fangs; he scowled and hissed, leaping to his feet.

He had mated someone – and been mated in return.

"Fuck," he choked, running a hand through his hair. If it was someone else, for all Draco knew, he would never find her again.

And if it had been Granger –

He felt ill.

It had only been her second transition, and if he had mated her, and  _cursed_  her –

Pacing forward in a blind panic, Draco collided with something soft and pliant. He blinked down at Granger, who stared up at him from the forest floor, her hands in the dirt behind her.

"Malfoy," she said, her expression stern as she rose to her feet and dusted her hands off. "Please tell me you remember something about last night."

"Nothing," he choked. "Only, I've got a bloody  _bite_  mark here –"

"Here," Granger whispered, and she clutched a hand to the side of her own neck. Draco nodded, holding her frantic gaze with his own. "Oh, Merlin."

"Let me see," he breathed, reaching out to press his fingers to the mark on her neck. Granger's eyes rolled back and a groan escaped her lips as she slipped forward a step, even as he caught a whiff of her scent up close, and his heart sank as it triggered a vague, disassociated memory. Frowning, Draco murmured, "That's mine."

"What did you do?" Granger asked, rubbing her neck, her eyes fluttering.

"I mated you," Draco clipped, running a hand through his hair. He needed to think this through, and to rationally determine what they could do next –

"Do you think we –" Granger swallowed, cutting herself off. "As wolves, I mean."

Draco shrugged, biting down hard on his lower lip. "We must have."

"So," she said, leaving the word to hang between them. "What does that mean now?"

He took a deep, steadying breath. "I don't know. I don't think it has to mean anything. But, like I said last night…"

"Right," she said, her tone clipped, "I remember."

"Look, let's go back to London and try and sort this out," Draco said, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on. The air between them was tense and awkward. "Do you have your wand and everything?"

Granger nodded; she looked a stark shade of green.

"Then let's go." He held out the Portkey, and once she'd grabbed hold, reactivated it. At the tight tug of the travel, Draco felt bile rising from his stomach into his throat and nearly retched.

He threw the Portkey onto the table and made his way from the basement into the apothecary above. Granger followed, squinting at the sunlight coming through the windows. It was far too bright and warm for his abysmal mood.

Draco could feel her eyes fixed on the back of his head and he turned to face her; he grimaced at the bite on her neck in the shape of his fangs.

"You don't need to have anything to do with me," Draco prefaced, leaning back on the workbench behind him for support.

"You said I'd never be happy with anyone else as a human," she countered.

Draco released a long, shuddering sigh. Her scent was lingering in his nose and the memories in the back of his mind. He glanced away. "I never should have brought you with me."

Granger's tone was tight as she said, "I asked for your help. I can't begrudge that you gave it to me."

"Perhaps I gave you more than you needed," Draco said, suppressing an urge to snicker at the whole situation. This  _had_  to be a nightmare. "And before you say anything about it, if we mated one another, we were obviously both interested in being mates at the time. It wasn't a case of  _forcing_  myself –"

"I know," Granger said quickly, cutting him off. "I realized that much."

He folded his arms across his chest, eyeing her. It could have been worse – Granger was attractive and intelligent, among many other positive qualities he could see now, years after the war. "Where do we go from here?"

Her head tilted as she stared at him. "I appreciate that you took the time to explain things to me last night, when you didn't need to. Maybe…" she pressed her hands together, looking uncomfortable. "Maybe we go back to the start. Maybe, if we try, we can make something out of this."

Draco swallowed. "And what's the start?"

Her brow furrowed. "I'm quite hungry. Would you like to get breakfast?"

A grin of relief tugged at his lips. "I could eat breakfast."

Granger smiled in return. "I mean, really, it's the least you could do given you didn't even buy me dinner first."

Draco released a true laugh, feeling something like hope well up in his chest. He nudged at her foot with his toe, smirking. "I probably owe you a few meals, come to think of it."

She breathed, "Probably," and grinned.

He smiled back, suddenly feeling like the bright mood of the sun wasn't so far off.


End file.
